No Stone Left Unturned
by Cable Car Chronicles
Summary: Set around the holidays, Mike looks forward to spending his Christmas with his daughter and partner, who is away on a ski holiday. What can possibly go wrong? Only a murder, a kidnapping and a severe snowstorm - and that's just for starters.
1. Chapter 1

The Cable Car Chronicles present a new story, "No Stone Left Unturned". It's written by many of the writers that frequent this fandom from several parts of the world. The story is set around Christmas time and the theme is 'homecoming'. While it's well past Christmas, we bet that the sentiment carries year around. We hope you enjoy!

_Disclaimer: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your friendly San Francisco Cable Car operator welcoming you all aboard! Please note that we do not own any of the original characters, locations or canon information depicted in the series "The Streets of San Francisco". We are merely borrowing them for our tale and shall return them to their rightful owners upon reaching our destination. So sit back, hold on tightly to your belongings and enjoy the ride..._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"Of course I haven't forgotten!" Bill Tanner proclaimed just a little bit louder than intended. Detectives Dan Healy and Norm Haseejian pulled their eyes away from their work and knew by the tone of the conversation, the recipient of the exasperation was Mrs. Tanner. Bill lowered his voice to continue, "I'll drop by the toy store on the way home. That new bike for Billy is ready. We'll keep it in the garage for the next couple of days."

Dan and Norm heard only one side of the call as they split their attention between paperwork and Bill. "He won't see the bike, Pam. He never goes into the garage, plus we've got a tarp..."

After a few more minutes and a quick good-bye, Tanner turned to his colleagues.

"Too much trouble!" Norm announced. Bill rolled his eyes as he knew what was coming. "I have a date with a single woman on Christmas Day. It's a home-cooked ham dinner with no strings and more importantly no snotnosed bike-riding rugrats."

Bill knew Norm was kidding as he often teased his colleague about his family commitments. In reality, Haseejian and Healy, while both swinging bachelors (the former by choice), respected their colleague and understood the time commitment and pressure he was under being a cop, a husband and a father of two.

"Nothing like waiting until the last minute, Bill. What time does the store close?" Healy asked.

"I'm not sure," Tanner answered as he looked into the glass cubicle that housed their boss, Lieutenant Mike Stone.

"Stores have been known to be closed on Christmas Eve, so it could be a real madhouse today. I wouldn't wait too long," Healy said with a mischievous smile.

The trio of detectives now looked at their superior, hoping that he would exit his office and announce that they were free to go home for the day. After all, Christmas Eve was the next day and while Haseejian and Healy would return to provide skeleton staff coverage, life at the Bureau would likely be quiet over the holidays.

Mike looked up from his desk feeling the stare of his detectives. He tried to suppress a grin as he rose from his chair and made his way out to the main area. "What are you three looking at?"

The men were silent. "Well?" Mike asked again.

"Gee, Boss," Healy began. "It's like this: Bill needs to go pick up a bike for his kid and since me and Norm are on duty over Christmas, we thought maybe we could have the afternoon off." Tanner rolled his eyes at Healy invoking his child's Christmas present as a reason for leaving early.

"Me and Norm, huh?" Mike began as he made slight fun of Healy's street talk. "You two think you should leave early because of his kid's present?" Mike nodded over to Tanner. "Is it because you're on duty over the holiday?"

"Actually, Keller agreed to cover for me the afternoon of Christmas Day. I've got a date." He added, "Sure hope he gets back from his ski trip on time."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Mike continued his tough act. "Between the two of you, I don't know who is worse with the women: you and every single woman in the city over thirty or him and all the younger single women between here and Tahoe." Mike looked at his watch to check the time. "Actually, he should be back in the morning since he's having Christmas Eve dinner and then going to Mass with Jeannie and me tomorrow night."

"Since when does he go to Mass?" Norm asked with an equal mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"After a week in Tahoe with wine, women and song, I'm sure he'll need to pay a visit with the Man upstairs." Mike answered as he checked his watch again, realizing he was late. "Say, Jeannie's bus is due in from Tucson any time now. I need to leave."

Mike turned quickly on his heel, re-entered his office, grabbed his hat and coat and bolted out the door. The three detectives stood still, watching the activity and the door close behind their boss's back. They looked at each other wondering what they should do next.

Suddenly, the Bureau door opened and Mike poked his head back in. "I thought you three needed to leave. What are you waiting for?" The surprised looks on their faces made Mike's grin wider. "Get going or do you need a proclamation from the mayor?"

The trio hustled back to their seats to quickly wrap up their work.

"And Merry Christmas!" the happy lieutenant called out from down the hall.

Mike whistled one of his favorite Christmas carols as he walked towards his car parked in front of the building. _Joy to the World, the Lord is come_…

_Oh, the joy of Christmas_- Mike could feel it rising in him, like a bubble ready to burst. There was a spring in his step and his heart was light, full of anticipation. _Isn't the anticipation almost the best thing about Christmas? Jeannie coming home today, Steve tomorrow… I hope the traffic is not too bad and she won't be late. What if Steve gets snowed in at Tahoe… Stop it Mike, it's Christmas_! he reminded himself as he negotiated the heavy pre-Christmas traffic. _Almost high noon, just a few more minutes until I see Jeannie… _

Mike parked his car right under a 'no parking' sign and waved at a passing traffic cop on a motorbike. The officer of the law either recognized Iron Mike Stone or he was in festive mood: he only waved back and rode on, just as the Tucson bus pulled up.

Mike stood on the tip of his toes, trying to get the first glimpse of Jeannie's slender frame in the crowd of travelers, all burdened down with lots of luggage.

Here she was at last, struggling with a heavy suitcase and two big bags. Mike sprinted over to help her and she almost dropped the suitcase on his toes in her haste to hug him.

"What a sight for my sore old eyes! You look prettier every time I see you!" He held his daughter at arm's length and scrutinized her lovingly. "Come on, we'd better move the car, I'm kinda blocking the exit."

He took the heavy suitcase and a bag and rushed on. Jeannie followed slowly, looking around, as if she was searching for something.

"Have you lost something, sweetheart?" was Mike's concerned question.

"Nooo…. I just thought that Steve would be here, too!" Jeannie answered.

"Oh, your old father isn't enough, you are looking for Steve!" Mike pretended to be annoyed, though he couldn't hide the grin on his face.

"Aw, Mike, you know what I mean! It is just that last year and the year before when Steve was on call over Christmas and he never got to finish his dinner…" His daughter sounded apologetic.

"Yep, that's exactly why Steve got a week off this year so that he could go skiing!" Mike tried to sound serious.

Jeannie's face fell with disappointment and Mike decided to stop teasing her. "He'll be back tomorrow after lunchtime, I guess."

Jeannie gave him a dig in the ribs on her way to the passenger side of the car, while Mike stowed her luggage in the trunk.

"Disappointed, sweetheart?" he asked kindly.

"Well, a little bit maybe. It would have been nice to have him here[3] for decorating the tree," she admitted.

"Sure! I would have liked someone younger here[4] too to climb up the ladder and stretch over to put the angel on top of the tree." Mike agreed.

"And someone to disentangle the fairy lights" Jeannie added.

"And someone to get the tree to sit straight in the stand…" Father and daughter laughed as they recalled all their little Christmas traditions.

"I can't blame him for absconding tonight, he probably knew that you would land him with all the crappy jobs!" Jeannie quipped, doubled over with laughter.

"Ah, no, just the jobs that don't require any specialist training. I would never leave it to an amateur to sample your sugar cookies!"

"Sugar cookies? That reminds me of something. Mike, I need to go shopping!"

"Women and shopping…" Mike muttered under his breath but obligingly pulled the car over when he saw a convenient and even legal spot.

"How about if I take my beautiful daughter out to lunch and buy her a piece of jewelry as an early Christmas present from one of the stalls over there?" he pointed at a row of vendors displaying their handmade crafts.

"Yes to all, but could we make it a hot dog? There is so much to do this afternoon!"

An hour later father and daughter were strolling back to the car. As promised, Mike had bought Jeannie a pretty silver bangle. He was so full of Christmas cheer that he felt he needed to share it now; he couldn't wait until Christmas Day! Mike was carrying a small grocery bag from a corner store in one hand; in the other hand he held the remains of a hot dog. Jeannie was already licking the last smear of mustard off her fingers.

"I still don't understand why you need sour cream for a Christmas Dinner. It definitely wasn't on the mile long shopping list you gave me over the phone…" Mike was puzzled.

"Oh, I'm trying a new recipe for ginger bread, you know." Jeannie explained.

"Sour cream in ginger bread? Whatever next?"

"Remember last Christmas after Steve returned from a call out, and I heated up his dinner for him?" Jeannie asked.

Mike remembered well and decided to keep his mouth shut.

"When he praised my cooking? He talked about his aunt's ginger bread then."

_He sure did and in all innocence mentioned that nobody made ginger bread like his Aunt… Buddy boy has a lot to learn about women!_ Mike thought.

"I asked him to get me the recipe and I thought I might try it out."

"How kind of you. I'm sure he will really appreciate it."

Jeannie eyed him with a hint of suspicion and decided to change the subject. "Now Mike, I hope you didn't buy Steve tickets for a ball game again!" His daughter had been at him about using more imagination in buying presents for his partner. "And besides, you only buy him tickets for the games you want to see!"

Mike chuckled. "You will be so proud of me. I bought him something really special, a novelty, you might say."

Jeannie's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Go on, Mike, do tell!"

"I got him," he paused for effect, "one of these new-fangled digital radio alarm clocks!"

"Mike!" Jeannie squealed. "You are mean, you are wicked!"

"Mean? How dare you? It cost me a lot, but it will be worth every cent to see his face!" Mike laughed out loud. "And it is so practical, it needs to be plugged in, so he can't put the clock in the wardrobe or fridge and pretend he didn't hear it!"

"We'll go right back to the shops and I'll buy him an extension cord to go with it!" Jeannie joked. "What you should have got him is a tape with your voice." She tried her best Mike imitation. "Get up now! Get your sorry ass out of bed or do I have to drag you?"

Mike put his arm around her and pulled her close. How he had missed his daughter and the laughter and companionship they shared.

"You won't find it so funny when he oversleeps tomorrow morning and our dinner gets ruined!" Jeannie grew serious of a sudden. "Now, that's no laughing matter, Mike!"

"Well, sweetheart, we really shouldn't expect him too early. It will take him at least five hours to drive back from Tahoe and the mountain roads could be bad." Mike felt the tiniest spark of worry when he thought about the roads. "I told him not to set out in the dark and not to drive when he is tired…"

"Come on, Mike, Steve is an excellent driver, and he has driven on those mountain roads before!" Jeannie reminded him.

"I know" Mike sighed. "It's just the idea of that little tin box he calls a car and the bad roads…"

"You old worry wart. It's Christmas, let's take a holiday from worrying!" Jeannie slipped her arm through her father's and gave it a fond squeeze. She started whistling Joy to the World, as she opened the car door.

But some of the overwhelming joy that Mike had felt earlier on had evaporated and made room for some niggling worry about the safety of his partner…


	2. Chapter 2

After returning home and bringing their purchases inside, Mike decided to ring the ski resort to remind Steve of his promise to be home for Christmas. He waited until Jeannie was situated in the kitchen to do whatever extra cooking she was going to do for their Christmas dinner. Placing the call, he could not stop the nagging feeling in his gut. The phone rang at least five times before it was answered.

Mike felt a deep sense of relief hearing Steve's voice but tried not to show it. "Well, I expected you'd be spending your last day on the slopes and not in your room. Still, it took you long enough. Am I interrupting something?" he asked cheekily, pretending to be suspicious.

"You dirty dog, you. No, you're not interrupting anything – and I wouldn't tell you if you were. Everything going okay there?" Steve was curious about why Mike was calling.

"Yes, fine. I just wanted to remind you that you promised to be back in time to spend the holidays with us. Jeannie was disappointed you were not there with me to pick her up."

"Tell her I promise to be back tomorrow in time to have dinner with you both", he chuckled. "I hope her bus ride was uneventful. They are saying there is soon to be bad weather around the area here, so I've been wondering how the weather was for her."

"We haven't really talked about that. She is in the kitchen starting her Christmas baking. All we've discussed was her wanting to know why you weren't there to meet her and her need to go shopping."

"Well you know how holidays are, Mike," Steve felt the urge to defend his friend. "There is a ton to do and only so much time to do it. And you know how Jeannie ..."

Just then the phone started crackling and they began having trouble hearing each other. Finally, Mike heard a message saying "All circuits are busy, please try your call later."

He hung up the phone hoping that didn't mean the weather Steve mentioned was going to prevent him from making it back. He knew Jeannie would be very upset if Steve did not make it home in time.

He rambled into the kitchen and told her he got a call through to Steve and that his partner promised he would be here to eat with them. Afraid he would worry his daughter, Mike didn't tell her of the disconnection or the possibility of bad weather. He steered the conversation instead to her trip home, how school was and all she had been doing.

After a while, Jeannie's thoughts returned to the holiday prep. "Mike, shouldn't you be getting the lights and decorations out? And you do have the tree set in the stand right, don't you? Remember the year before last, you had it in there wrong and Steve had the tree come crashing down on him."

"Yes, I remember. Could that boy howl!" Mike laughed at the memory.

"Well, Mike, the tree was too big for the stand," Jeannie scolded. "Poor Steve was lucky he didn't have an eye put out considering the decorations that broke and scratched his forehead."

"Aw, it wasn't that bad, Sweetheart," Mike pleaded in his most innocent voice.

************

Meanwhile, at the Mount Sumner ski resort, the usual quiet had suddenly been replaced by bedlam as a maid entered a room to straighten after one of the guests had left to head back home. The maid let out a scream when she discovered a body wrapped in the covers of the bed she was stripping. Several people came running when they heard the scream, including Steve. When he saw what made the young woman scream, he tried to get the others to back out of the room before they destroyed the possible crime scene.

"Someone call the police and tell them there has been a body found. Everyone needs to leave the room before they touch anything," Steve ordered. "I'm San Francisco PD," he volunteered as he sought to address the surprised looks from other onlookers when he immediately took charge.

He checked the victim's neck for a pulse and felt nothing. The maid was still in a state of shock, when he helped her to her feet and led her from the room, closing the door behind them. He handed her off to one of the workers to get her some hot sweet tea then stayed in front of the room door until the authorities arrived.

Wondering if the police had been contacted, Steve asked the hotel worker, "Have the authorities been called yet?"

"They are on their way. There is a storm brewing but they said they will get here as soon as possible. Had to try four times to make the call. Kept getting a message that all circuits were busy, so I bet the phones will soon be out totally with this weather that is moving into the area," the worker replied observed.

"That's not good." Steve started to think about how he hated to break a promise he made, especially to Jeannie and Mike. Almost an hour later the authorities arrived and were directed to where Steve was waiting for them.

"I'm Inspector Steven Keller," Steve introduced himself when the police unit arrived. He showed them his ID and the older man in charge nodded.

"I'm Captain Jeff Daniels," he replied. "What do we have?" he asked.

"The maid found a body in the room," Steve replied. "I heard her screaming and came at once. I kept everyone out. The man in the bed is definitely dead. I suspect he's been dead for some time."

"Where is the maid?" Daniels asked.

"I had someone take her downstairs and give her some tea," Steve replied. "She was pretty shaken up, as you can imagine."

"Good work," Daniels praised. "Hernandez," he commanded, turning to one of his men, "go and find the maid and interview her. Inspector Keller, I'd like you to come with me." He entered the room and looked around.

For the next few minutes, Steve patiently answered questions about how the room had looked when he first arrived, if he had ever seen the victim around the hotel and if he would recognize any of the people who were milling about outside the room at that time. Steve had not really taken much note of the people outside; he was more concerned with preserving the crime scene. He had seen the victim in the bar, he admitted, although he had never spoken to the man. He agreed to have his prints taken to eliminate any he might have inadvertently left behind. He gave a statement to one of the other officers and he was then thanked, ushered from the room, and reminded not to leave the hotel before he was given permission. Feeling rather disgruntled, Steve went back to his room.

There was no point in trying to phone Mike again. The lines were down and a look outside showed that the snow was coming in horizontally. He shivered, although it was more than warm enough in his room. He had another go at scrubbing the ink off his fingertips, but knew from experience that it would take several washings before his hands were clean again. At a loose end, he went downstairs to the bar.

There was only one topic of conversation and everyone wanted to talk to Steve. He refused to speculate on what might have happened, but he was certain in his own mind that it was murder. He did some subtle questioning himself, and discovered that the victim was called George Midlem.

Any hope of a quiet drink was gone. Steve endured the complaints of the hotel guests who, like him, had intended to leave the following morning and were now forbidden. Police were at each of the exits, preventing anyone from leaving. It was useless trying to explain that he also wanted to be home for Christmas, as nobody was listening. After about an hour of this, Steve gave up and left the bar. Being alone in his room with the TV seemed like a nice alternative. He had hoped to have dinner with a girl he met on the slopes that afternoon, but she was nowhere in sight.

With the police presence, the corridors of the hotel were quiet. Steve had chosen this hotel because most of the guests tended to be young and it was sometimes quite noisy in the evenings as the guests enjoyed the après ski. The atmosphere was totally different tonight.

Several of the lights were out in the corridor where Steve's room was situated. With the storm raging outside, Steve assumed that the hotel was either running on a generator, which would mean only partial lighting, or they were switching off lights to try and minimize the energy usage. He fumbled in his pocket for his key and wondered if it would be worth trying to phone Mike again.

As he inserted his key into the lock, the door opened from the inside. Steve had the impression of someone in the room, but the room was dimly lit by only a table lamp and before he could get a proper look, someone cannoned into him from behind. Before he could fight back, he found himself on the floor, with a hood over his head and his hands bound behind him. He shouted, but the hood absorbed most of the sound. A hand clamped over his mouth.

"Okay, let's get him out of here," one of the assailants said. "We need to find out how much he saw."

Saw? Steve shook his head. Who were these men? What did they think he had seen? He tried to bite the hand that was covering his mouth, but that just earned him a backhanded slap that rattled his teeth. Dazed, he kicked out as he was dragged to his feet and felt his boot connect with someone, who cursed loudly. The next instant, he was punched heavily in the stomach. He doubled over and was allowed to fall to the floor. His feet were bound together and he was lifted up and draped over a shoulder.

Head down, and still gasping for breath, Steve realized that he was being carried away and had no idea who these two men were or what they thought he had seen. Worse yet, they were kidnapping him and it appeared that nobody had noticed!


	3. Chapter 3

**No Stone Left Unturned**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"Okay, let's put him down. No one will hear him here and if he knows what's good for him he won't try to make a break for it!"

After being half carried and half dragged in and out of an elevator, Steve felt himself being released and he dropped to the ground on his side. Great. Just great. Can't a guy get a break while he's on vacation? Is it really too much to ask?

"Marty?" A woman's voice called out softly. Tthen more sharply she said, "Marty! What are you doing? Who is this man?"

"Sweetheart, now, don't…er….don't you worry about him. We got it all under control," replied the man named Marty.

"Oh Marty, what did you do to him?"

Steve lifted his head off the cool ground and through the material of the hood he could just make out shapes moving in front of him. "Would someone mind telling me what's…"

"Shut up!" A second man barked. He sounded younger and more confident.

Steve sighed heavily and listened to what was happening around him, while he tried to work his hands free of the bonds that tied them. He noted that the walls seem to echo around him and wherever he was smelled like clean laundry.

"Marty, what is he doing here?" the woman hissed frantically.

"Sweetheart, this guy's a cop. He was in Midlem's room when that maid found his body. We only just got out of there. He could've seen us!" Marty whispered back.

"Oh no. What are we going to do?" the woman gasped.

"Don't worry mom, we'll sort this out,"said the voice of the younger man.

"Let me talk to him," the middle aged woman reasoned in a calmer tone.

"No way!" the youth declared.

"Keep it down, son!" Marty hushed.

Steve had managed to almost wriggle a hand through the restraint when someone pulled the hood off his head amid hushed protests. There, kneeling beside him, was a silver haired woman in her fifties. Steve looked into her kind face and saw that she meant him no harm, then his eyes travelled up to the two companions behind her. One was a heavy-set man who looked to be the same age as the woman and the other was an athletic youth that bore a resemblance to the older man and woman except rather than looking nervous, he stood with his fists clenched, ready to strike. Steve looked into his eyes and could see that beyond the rough exterior, was a frightened boy in his late teens. A boy trying to protect the people he cared about. His parents? He also noted that the knuckles on one of the youth's hands were discoloured. Bruising?

"I'm sorry that you had to be subjected to this. Please, call me Agnes. Let me explain…"

"No, mom!" the youth all but shouted.

"Ryan, enough!" Marty asserted and the youth stepped back crossing his arms defiantly.

"You see, that man the maid found in room 115…he…I killed him," Agnes declared.

"No, don't listen to her. My wife doesn't know what she's saying," Marty insisted, wrapping his arms around Agnes's shoulders."I did it. I killed him."

Steve looked from one to the other, puzzled. Oh, boy. One of these cases, I see.

"Tell you what? Why don't we start from the beginning?" Steve offered calmly.

"Why don't you tell us what you saw? Then we'll decide if we want to tell you anything!" Ryan snapped.

The young off-duty Inspector locked eyes with the teen and said, "Look, I am here just like everyone else – trying to have a vacation. I have no idea what it is you think I saw or didn't see. Yes, I'm a policeman. I work in the homicide department in San Francisco. I can tell you right now that none of you look like cold- blooded killers. Whatever trouble you're obviously caught up in, maybe I can help. Keeping me tied up is only going make matters worse for all of you." He waited for his words to sink in.

A watched cake doesn't bake, Jeannie thought to herself. She worked purposefully in the kitchen on other tasks while the gingerbread honey cake she made finished in the oven. She carefully followed Steve's aunt's recipe wanting it to be just the way he remembered. It was to be her gift to him on Christmas Eve. She grinned almost devilishly as she remembered her father wrinkling his nose when she added sour cream to the batter.

In the meantime, Mike relaxed in the living room wearing his most comfortable lounging clothes and slippers while enjoying a Christmas special with Perry Como. The mellow singer's crooning nearly lulled the older man to sleep. Mike's thoughts drifted to past holiday seasons when his little Jeannie cuddled next to him on the sofa while Helen was busy with last minute preparations. Hearing Jeannie rattling in the kitchen sent Mike all the way back in time and he dreamed that it was Helen in the next room. He groggily laid his arm on a nearby throw pillow, half expecting a little girl to snuggle closer. He groaned in disappointment as he drifted back to reality.

A ringing phone sent Mike abruptly to the present. He reached over to the end table after a couple of rings. "Stone," Mike answered. He couldn't remember the last time he answered the phone with a hello.

"Hey, Mike. It's Haseejian," the burly detective on the other end of the line paused.

"Norm, did you go back to the office?" Mike asked curiously.

"No, I'm at home. One of the swing shift guys picked up the daily in-state homicide report from the teletype and called me. Say, Steve is staying at a resort near Tahoe, right?"

"Yes, he is. Tonight should be his last night there, why?"

"Do you remember the name of it?" Norm asked hesitantly.

"Sure, it was Mount something…" he thought for a second. "Mount Sumner, that's it. Why?"

"Well," Norm hedged as he started to answer.

"What is it? Is it Steve?" Mike asked with marked concern.

"We don't know who the victim is, but there was a homicide at this Mount Sumner Ski resort."

"What does the report say?"

"The local police reported a killing that happened at the resort earlier this afternoon. It said that a man staying alone at the hotel was found in his room with a fatal head injury. Release of the victim's identity was pending notification of family and confirmation."

Mike was silent as he shuddered in disbelief.

"Mike?" Norm asked. "You still there?"

"Couldn't be. I just spoke to him this afternoon. He was fine." Trouble always follows you, Buddy boy, Mike thought to himself.

"Yeah, I imagine not. Just Keller's little ruse to get out of subbing for me on Christmas Day," Haseejian joked nervously. The other end of the phone was awkwardly silent.

"Norm," Mike responded quietly moments later. "I'll try getting a hold of Steve at the resort. Why don't you call the local police and see what you can find out. No matter what, someone is dead and Steve is probably in the thick of it."

"On it, Mike," Haseejian responded with a tinge of sympathy in his voice.

"Stay in touch." Mike hung up the phone as he heard Jeannie walking towards him from behind.

"Who was that, Mike?" Jeannie asked curiously. "Was it Steve? He's going to be here, right?"

"It was one of the guys from the Bureau. Everything's fine, Sweetheart." Mike tried to put on a good act and hoped that Jeannie would buy into it atat least for now. He walked over to retrieve his wallet and the slip of paper Steve gave him with the hotel name and number.

Jeannie squinted at her father. Whenever he says 'Everything's fine, Sweetheart', it's not fine. She would have pursued further with Mike, but the timer for Steve's cake rang.

Steve waited for Agnes and Marty to respond. Taking the time to assess his surroundings, he figured he was in a storage area of an apartment building – most likely the basement. He could hear the clatter of nearby washers and dryers that other tenants were using. His arms cramped undeniably from being tied behind his back and his patience quickly dwindled. Before he could open his mouth again, Agnes spoke.

"What is your name, young man?"

"Inspector Steven Keller, ma'am," he replied respectfully, eyeing the older woman who knelt before him. Despite his situation, Steve felt reassured by the calmness of her voice and a puzzling familiarity that suggested she was the heart and moral center of his trio of captors.

"Well, Inspector Keller, I'm afraid that I am truly at fault," she began.

"Don't believe her, Inspector," Marty interrupted. "The blame falls on me. Not on her – and not on the boy either."

"Are you her husband?" Steve asked the older man.

"Yes, we've been married for nearly twenty five years," he added with a half smile. "The boy here is our youngest. He's only seventeen. He had nothing to do with this."

"I understand." Steve peered over to Ryan, noting the young man's hands were still clinched in tight balls as his eyes darted quickly between his parents.

"But it is my fault," Agnes interrupted. "Marty and Ryan went to this man's hotel room because of me. They never meant to…"

"It was an accident, Inspector. I went there with one purpose and that was to get this man to stop insulting my wife. We started arguing. It got a little heated and he shoved me. I shoved back and he fell, clipping his head on the corner of the desk."

Steve was confused as he remembered the crime scene. The housekeeper found the body wrapped in a duvet on the bed. "You called him Midlem. I take it that you were acquainted with him before the, um, accident?"

"Only recently," Marty answered. He hesitated to go further into detail with the Inspector. Looking away, he gritted his teeth and folded his arms. Steve picked up on the body language and decided to try a different tactic when another cramping wave came over his arms. "Okay, I can't take this anymore. Will you please untie my hands and feet?"

Marty nodded to Ryan who in turn came to Steve's side, pulled out an army knife and cut through both binds. Steve shook the feeling back into his arms and legs. "Now do you mind if I sit like a normal human being and you can tell me the rest?"

Ryan frowned at the Inspector, while Marty gave the go ahead for Steve to take a seat on a storage container.

"Thank you," Steve responded with mild sarcasm. He took a second to regroup. "Okay, so as far as you could tell, did the fall kill him?"

Marty sighed and looked back at Steve. "I believe so. He dropped like a stone. We didn't know what to do, so we left."

"And that's when the housekeeper found the body?" Steve wondered out loud. A look of confusion fell over his face. "But the body was in the bed and not by the desk. What aren't you telling me?"

"Well," Marty began sheepishly. "We went back."

"You what?" Steve asked incredulously.

Agnes continued. "Oh, Marty. Let's tell him what happened." She sat next to Steve and placed her hand on his arm. "You see, Inspector, Midlem cheated my mother." Agnes took a deep breath as she continued. "She currently lives alone on a small ranch just down the road near Carson City."

"Wait a minute, we're in Nevada?" Steve asked. He figured that the trio was unaware that transporting a kidnap victim over state lines constituted a federal offense.

"Why yes, just over the border from Tahoe," Agnes added. "But as I was about to say, the ranch became too hard for her to handle, so she decided to sell it."

"Understandable," Steve commented as he was still adjusting to the idea of being in another state. "Go on."

"Getting the ranch ready to sell proved to be quite a task. It was then that I realized that my mother was becoming confused. You know, senile. It's so sad – she's such a sweet dear. But seeing how her mind was, Marty and I began the process to put her under guardianship and her assets under conservatorship. It was for her own protection," Agnes added defensively.

Marty cast a quick glance to Ryan and then back to Agnes. He wondered how much she would say as Agnes continued to speak. "Recently, a silver vein was found near the ranch and we began to suspect that the vein extended to her property. Just as we did, Midlem showed up on my mother's doorstep with geological reports that showed the ground there was unstable from mining done more than one hundred years ago. He said that there'd be no way she could sell it."

"So let me guess: out of the kindness of his heart, he made her a low-ball offer," Steve added.

"Exactly," Agnes agreed with a slight smile. She was beginning to feel like Steve could be an ally.

"But I don't understand. With the property in conservatorship with you, he had no rights to buy the ranch regardless of the offer," Steve added.

"Unfortunately for us, the paperwork wasn't properly notarized until after my mother signed the ranch over to him," Agnes answered sadly.

"So he swindled your mother."

Marty began to develop some trust with the Inspector considering how Steve respectfully addressed his wife. He added, "Midlem had the deed at the hotel room and planned to record it as soon as the title office opened after Christmas."

Christmas, Steve thoughts strayed for a moment. Even if I get these people to tell their story to Detective Daniels, I'll get caught up in the weather for sure now. I hate to disappoint Mike and Jeannie. Jeannie…, he thought again. He had a beautiful beaded necklace he'd purchased in downtown Tahoe packed snugly away in his luggage for her. He hoped he would be able to give it to her at least before she returned to Arizona.

The young inspector shook himself back to reality and managed to ask another question directed at Marty. "So you were really after the deed then?"

"No, we didn't go there with the intent to steal the deed. We just wanted him to stop being such a jackass. You see, her mother told us about selling the ranch to this 'nice young man' and she told us where he was staying. I went to the hotel yesterday to ask him to do the right thing for the senile old woman and drop his plans. He only laughed at me, so I said we'd take him to court. Granted, it would be a hard to win the case given that we had no power over Agnes's mother at that point, but we felt like it was our only option, legally at least." Marty was angry. "Agnes tried to get through to Midlem later that day thinking that she would give him one more chance before we called the attorney. He said that no court would side with us and that my presence alone would discredit any argument the family had."

"What's he got on you?" Steve asked.

"Inspector, I'm a two time loser. I've done time for assault and tax evasion." Marty lowered his head and looked away. "Midlem somehow knew that."

Steve shook his head. "But, Agnes, I still don't understand how you think this is your fault."

Marty answered. "The final insult was when he said Agnes was a failure of a daughter and had only placed her property into conservatorship for the silver. He called her 'greedy filth.' If he hadn't done that, I wouldn't have gone back over there, but that was the last straw for me."

"So you were defending her honor, then? And with your son?"

"That's what men do," Marty added with a touch of bravado. "Although I regret taking Ryan with me now."

"And because you've been in jail twice, Agnes is willing to take the blame," Steve concluded.

"My dear sweet Agnes would take the fall for this because she's afraid that if I'm convicted a third time, I'll be put away permanently. You must understand, I'd never let Agnes take that chance."

"Of course, you wouldn't, Dad," Ryan said proudly with an edge of defiance. He shot a dagger of a glare over to Steve.

Marty continued. "Like I said, the original intent was not to steal the deed, but with Midlem dead, I thought maybe we could slip back in and grab the document and no one would be the wiser. We went back to the room and started going through the guy's stuff. When we heard the housekeeper trying to open the lock, we panicked."

"What did you do next?"

"Well, as quickly as we could, we tossed the body onto the bed and covered it up. You know, we made it look like he was asleep. Ryan crawled under the bed and I hid in the closet, praying that the maid wouldn't find either of us."

Steve cocked an eyebrow as he once again looked at Ryan. A seventeen year old kid sees a man die, helps his father put the deceased into a bed and then hides under the same bed while the housekeeper comes in. No wonder the kid is tightly wound.

Steve looked back at Marty. "I'm still a little confused. The maid screamed when she found the body. I was in the room seconds later. How did you get out without either of us seeing you?"

"The maid…" Marty began.

"That poor woman," Agnes interjected.

Marty nodded his head as he continued. "The maid was paged on her walkie talkie and told to bring extra towels to another room down the hall. I could see her through the crack in the closet door. She took the towels from her cart and left. I grabbed Ryan and we quietly slipped out. It was only seconds later that she came back to the room and found the body. When we heard her scream, we ducked into a little alcove and saw you as you ran pastsed us."

"Okay, I get it. And so by seeing me, you thought that perhaps I saw you. So of course, the logical thing would be to come back for a third time and kidnap me," Steve added with a sting of sarcasm.

"It's not like we planned any of this, Inspector," Marty defended.

Steve sighed. "Look, I hear what you are saying and in sort of a frenzied way, it makes sense. Why don't we go see Detective Daniels and explain what happened?"

"What about us abducting you?"

"You come with me now and we'll pretend that never happened. We'll just say that you found me and asked to talk." Knowing that the family faced Ffederal charges for his interstate trip, Steve made up his mind earlier not to press the fact he had been kidnapped.

Agnes looked at Marty and nodded her head. "Let's go back to Tahoe and turn ourselves in to the police. Perhaps with the Inspector, we might be able to get our side of the story told."

Minutes later, Marty, Agnes and Ryan, accompanied by Steve, walked out to an older model Impala that was parked outside the apartment building. The Inspector eyed the age and condition of the car and looked back at the shabby apartment building. He recognized that this family didn't have much by way of resources, probably living hand to mouth. He then looked up to the dark skies and wondered if the snowstorm was headed their way. "Sure hope we don't have any problems getting back to Tahoe. The snow storm was supposed to come through here by now."

"We can make it," Marty assured Steve. "I've lived here all my life. We sit in a valley and don't see the worst of the storms. It will likely pass over us with just a moderate amount of snow. Now getting through the pass back to San Francisco will be another story."

Steve frowned at the thought as he got into the front passenger seat. Well, first thing's first. Let's make it safely to the station.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for your continued support! Here's chapter 4

* * *

Mike Stone waited until his daughter was in the kitchen before he frantically started dialling Steve's number at the ski resort. No answer… Mike put down the receiver and tried again, but the phone was still ringing out. He decided to try the hotel switchboard instead and ask for an urgent message to be delivered to Steve to ring him back immediately. But again, no luck, the hotel switchboard was engaged. Mike cursed under his breath. Reporters, I bet! They do nothing but clog up the phone lines!

He did his best to suppress his mounting panic for Jeannie's sake. He knew well that he was in for a grilling and had only been saved by the bell of the kitchen timer. But what could he tell her, not having any information himself? He tried the hotel switchboard again and this time got an answer.

"Mount Sumner Hotel, how can I help you?" The voice of the woman answering sounded tired and harassed. Mike identified himself and told her he was looking for one of their guest, a Steven Keller. The receptionist let out an unprofessional snort.

"You and the whole police force here! He seems to have vanished into thin air! Maybe you should speak to Detective Daniels, he might be able to give you some information. I'm sorry, but we are rather busy here…"

Damn her, how could she just put down the phone on him! Mike looked at the offending object in his hand with disgust. But the moment he put down the receiver, the phone started ringing again. The detective snatched it in record time and barked "Stone!"

"Mike, its Norm. Look, I got hold of the lead investigator. The stiff is a guy called Midlem and Steve was among the first on the scene. But now, Mike, there seems to be a complication…"

Mike interrupted him "Steve has disappeared!" His voice betrayed his deep concern.

The Armenian detective was taken aback. "How did you know, Mike?"

"I couldn't get Steve in his room so I tried reception and the girl at the switchboard let it slip."

Hasseejian was furious that Mike had to learn about Steve's disappearance in such a way. He knew how the older detective felt about his protégé and could barely imagine the torment that Mike must be going through now. "Mike, why don't you ring Daniels yourself and he will fill you in first hand. I'll go back to the Bureau and try and get something on Midlem. Don't ask me why, but I do have a faint recollection of something fishy in connection with the name… And don't worry, Mike, our boy can look after himself. I'm sure he'll turn up safe and sound…"

Mike certainly appreciated Norm's effort at putting his mind at ease, but he knew that something was wrong, deeply wrong! He looked up, straight into the crystal blue eyes of his daughter Jeannie who had sneaked back out from the kitchen and stood right in front of him. God knows how much she has heard of his phone conversation!

"What did the receptionist let slip?" she challenged and Mike knew from experience that a' Later, sweetheart!' wouldn't suffice for now.

"Listen, Jeannie, there is some trouble at the hotel Steve is staying at. Some guy was killed and Steve got involved with the investigation." He stopped to scrutinise his daughter's face. She looked disappointed, but there was still some hint of suspicion there.

"Are you trying to tell me he won't be coming home for Christmas?"

"I don't know, Jeannie, I haven't spoken to him or to the lead detective yet." He exhaled a breath. This went really well. She thinks it's just about being late home for Christmas! Mike almost congratulated himself.

"Okay, Mike. I get this. But what did the receptionist let slip and why are you so upset?" The normally warm blue eyes had turned into two orbs of ice that seemed to bore into him like… Just like Helen's! In spite of his inner turmoil Mike smiled.

"Sweetheart, we can't get hold of him at the moment, it seems…" It was no lie, but not exactly the whole truth either.

"And why would that be, father dear?" Jeannie asked in a deceptively sweet voice.

Mike sighed. "He has disappeared, I guess."

"Disappeared? And what are you doing here, chewing the fat? Get on the phone pronto and talk to that lead detective!"

Exactly what I wanted to do for ages had I not been given the third degree by my daughter… Mike never dared to say this out loud. While he dialled another thought went through his head. And God help Buddy boy if he has just shacked up with a lady for the night. Jeannie will

Around the same time the Impala had reached the Lincoln Highway. The light flurry of snow had morphed into a steady fall, sticking to the windscreen in spite of the wiper going at full speed. Steve felt the cold and held his stiff hands closer to the tepid blast of the heater. He was painfully aware that he wasn't wearing the proper clothes for the weather. Note to self - make sure to wear a warm jacket when being abducted… He tried hard to overcome a deep feeling of unease that had gripped him.

First of all, he didn't like the deteriorating road conditions and the balding tyres of the old car he couldn't have failed to notice before he got in. Sure, Marty, who was at the wheel, was a good and experienced driver, but was the car really up to it?

Then another niggling doubt had come to his mind. Wasn't Mike always at him for being too trusting, too careless? He remembered the times when he was at the receiving end of Mike's tongue lashing for being taken in by the harmless appearance of a person and falling for the sob story. No, impossible! Agnes was genuine, she had to be genuine! He craned his neck to get a view in the rear mirror and saw Agnes smiling at him. He also saw Ryan and his father exchanging furtive glances.

_You are getting paranoid now, Steve_! He said to himself_. I am their only chance to get out of this!_

The freezing cold young man looked out of the window; the snow was falling heavily now and the wind had picked up too, driving the snow against the windscreen at high speed. The icy wind came through the brittle rubber seals around the windows. Steve shivered involuntarily.

"You must be cold, you poor thing. We have a blanket in the boot of the car. Maybe we should get it?" Agnes had noticed the discomfort of their passenger.

Marty concentrated on the road ahead of him and replied. "I don't really want to stop right here, a few miles further up, when we are done climbing I'll pull in and we'll get the blanket. I know the heater doesn't stand a chance against the wind blowing in." His voice sounded strained. Steve was getting even more concerned. The man who had sounded so confident about the weather conditions was obviously getting worried, too.

Silence reigned in the car again. On the backseat, Agnes was leaning against her son. Steve couldn't really figure out who was comforting who, but he found the scene oddly soothing himself. The only sound he heard was the struggling engine and the swishing of the wiper blades against the accumulating snow. Had he not been chilled to the bones he would have nodded off…

"There's a good spot for me to pull in" Marty's voice cut through Steve's reverie. "I know you must be freezing, but the door on Ryan's side jams with the cold and I have to keep revving the engine or she might cut out."

Steve would never allow a lady to face a snow storm, no matter how cold he was and jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind him shut to conserve what little heat there was in the car. His stiff fingers fumbled a little with the lid of the boot, but soon enough he got hold of a grey woollen blanket that he draped gratefully around his shoulders. Probably the same blanket they had draped over me for the journey out! Steve thought. He quickly closed the lid and rushed around the car towards the passenger's door, when the engine revved under extreme strain and the Impala took off, showering the perplexed young man with wet snow.

Steve stood like paralysed as he watched the rear lights of the car disappear in the driving snow.

After a moment he began walking, wrapping the blanket tighter around him and wondering which direction was closest to a safe haven. He continued to berate himself for being too trusting, thinking if Mike was here he would scold him. He realized Mike's lecture would be the lesser of two evils; knowing that the wrath of Jeannie for his naiveté would be far worse.

_Why did I bother to try to help them? Why did I trust them? I wish I had just stayed in San Francisco. At least Mike and Jeannie would know where I was. They'd realize I didn't just flake out on them and not show up like I promised._

He continued to walk for a mile wishing someone would come along and give him a ride. He knew the chance was slim since the weather was too bad for almost anyone to be out driving.

Mike hung up the phone after speaking Detective Daniels and told Jeannie what he knew. Mike saw the worry in her face, thinking that it was very well more than he was showing. Both Mike and Jeannie knew the weather was severe where Steve was but Mike decided travel to Tahoe despite the risk. Mike found chains in his garage to put on the car when he got close to the mountains. He hoped that he would arrive there only to find Steve at the resort about to leave for home.

While in his garage, Detective Hasseejian called and spoke with Jeannie. He told her to relay to Mike that Midlem had a file from just a short time in California filled with bunko arrests. Norm said that he was still digging and was sure there was more outside of the state. Jeannie left the message by the phone and then headed upstairs to pack a suitcase making sure she had plenty of warm clothes including her good ski jacket she had purchased a year earlier. She remembered Steve helping her buy the jacket since he had expertise in that area.

She walked down the steps and placed her bag by the door. Next she went to her father's room and packed Mike a bag, making sure she packed Mike the warmest things as well. She was about to close the suitcase when she remembered a photo of Steve. In case she and Mike needed to make missing person fliers, she grabbed a framed picture off the mantel of the three of them together. She placed the photo in Mike's bag, closed it and set it with hers, just as Mike returned.

"Got my stuff ready to go, I see. Thank you, Sweetheart."

Jeannie replied with no trepidation, "And my stuff, too. I'm going with you. Do you have the chains?"

Mike knew he had to be firm. "No, young lady, you are not going. It might be too dangerous. I will call as soon as I can get there and let you know what is what."

"I am going!" Jeannie quickly countered. "You just don't understand what Steve means to me…" she began as Mike gave her a surprised look. Jeannie held her tongue, but thought to herself. And what I think I might mean to him.

Mike tried to calm her down, but knew he would not win the battle. "Okay, you can come. Between you and Steve, I am going to go completely grey." As he picked up the luggage, Jeannie heard him mumble, "And this time around, I am going to wring his neck for the scare he has given us."

Jeannie replied defensively, "Only if it is his doing. And I know you, Mike Stone; you feel something is terribly wrong with him just as much as I do. You know good and well this was not his doing. Steve has never broken a promise to us. Oh, before I forget, there is a message for you from Norm about someone named Midlem." Jeannie pointed over to the phone.

Mike saw the message, placed the bag back on the floor and called Norm. Norm wasn't surprised to learn that Mike and Jeannie were headed to Tahoe to find what has happened to Steve. Mike thanked Norm for the information on Midlem and both men vowed to keep in touch.

Shivering and miserable, Steve heard something that sounded like an engine. It was hard to tell with the snow swirling around, but then he saw the headlights as the vehicle got closer. He tried flagging the driver down hoping against hope it was not his former captors. The vehicle slowed and then stopped beside him.

The sedan was unmarked but the passenger wasn't; he was wearing a sheriff's uniform. Judging from the age, around Steve's, the detective thought he could be a deputy. He wondered why the dark-haired man was on the road in this bad weather.

All that mattered to him at the moment though was that this person was his ticket out of the cold.

Steve slowly approached it. While he was drawn to the warmth he knew was inside the vehicle, he also was aware of his situation. To the other man he was just a stranger clad in blue jeans, a black turtleneck and boots and wrapped in a blanket, wandering around in the heavily falling snow.

Just like he had expected the uniformed person opened the door of the car and carefully got out, his eyes never leaving Steve's upper torso, clearly looking for any signs of danger. And Keller couldn't blame him; he'd done the exact same thing.

"Sir, what are you doing out here?" the man asked, his right hand slowly going to the holster on his hip and opening the latch holding his gun in place.

Even though he was freezing pretty bad and really dreaded to lose what little warmth he had left, Steve slowly and as unthreatening as possible opened the blanket to show that he was unarmed before the other man even asked him to. "My name is Inspector Keller, I'm with the San Francisco Police Department," he began, not knowing how to continue. Somehow he had a feeling that no one would believe his story.

"Deputy Weston," the man introduced himself, his hand coming to rest at his side now. "Did your car break down?" he inquired.

"Believe it or not, deputy, I got left out here," Keller answered, hoping it would be enough of an explanation. The slight annoyance in his voice wasn't an act at all.

"Prank gone wrong?" Weston asked with raised eyebrows.

Steve knew how embarrassing that sounded but it was not as humiliating as the truth. "Something like that, yeah."

The deputy seemed to debate what to do but seeing the other man shiver violently seemed to convince him that any questions he'd have could wait until later. Taking a step toward the inspector as an inviting gesture, Weston said with nod to the white vehicle," Come on, let's get you warmed up."

Relieved Keller crossed the road and walked around the front of the car while the deputy retrieved a snow jacket from the backseat. "Here, that has to do for now." He handed it over and Steve, nodding his thanks, gratefully slipped in it before freeing his clothes from the snow as best as he could. He got into the passenger side of the car and let the sodden blanket fall into a heap next to his feet.

Back behind the wheel now, Weston was holding out a blanket to the shivering inspector before he turned up the heater even more. "I better take you back to the station," the deputy stated.

Despite the warmth, or maybe just because of it, Steve's teeth started to rattle with every shiver of his body. But he managed a "Thank you".

Weston nodded in reply, and Steve sank deeper into the warm and comfortable seat. Remembering Mike's taunting words from hours ago he wished his friend had been right. He'd rather be with a beautiful girl right now then wet and freezing out here, wherever here was.

But it finally looked up for him again. Maybe he could just make it back home in time for Christmas after all.

Neither of them noticed as a familiar car emerged from the curtain of snow behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Jeannie watched the windshield wipers of her father's old Ford convert big snowflakes to drops of water as the rhythmic thumping did little to calm her anxiety. It was well into the evening by the time she and her father passed through Sacramento. They stopped for a quick meal at a highway diner after filling up with gas. Mike slipped away to a payphone to check in with Hasseejian only to learn there were no new developments in the Midlem murder or Steve's disappearance.

Sometimes no news was good news, but in this instance, Mike feared that was not the case. He caught a glimpse of his daughter sitting alone at the restaurant table and poured every ounce of resolve into the effort of showing minimal concern to the young woman.

"You ready to get back on the road, Sweetheart?" he asked as he noticed her half eaten plate was in the same state as before his phone call. "Why don't you finish that?"

"Sure, Mike," she said quietly. She picked up the remainder of her sandwich and took a couple of bites. "I'm ready."

The pair returned to their vehicle. "We'll put the chains on once we get into the foothills. After that the roads will probably start changing," he said as he saw the wet, but not slick condition of the roads in Sacramento.

An hour later, Mike pulled over in Weimar and quickly placed the chains on the tires. "I don't do that often, but it's simple enough to do," he said as he moved the car only a foot forward over the links. He quickly finished the process by securing the chains tightly on each tire. "There, now. All set. Okay, Buddy boy, we are on our way," Mike said aloud. He felt it important to convey a since of control for the protection of his daughter. He glanced over to Jeannie who sat very still. "It will be okay, Sweetheart."

She nodded quietly, "I know."

Mike took a deep breath in. "You know, I can still smell the gingerbread you packed. It's taking all of my strength not to take a bite or two."

Jeannie nodded to the back seat where lying wrapped in a kitchen towel was the now-cool loaf of gingerbread cake. She had decided at the last moment to bring it, carefully packing it straight from the oven back at the house. "You'd better not, Mike Stone. That's Steve's Christmas present. Like I said, I called his Aunt Ruth and got the recipe. I thought he might appreciate it sooner rather than later."

"I'm sure he will," Mike agreed. "I'm guessing that you'll give it to him after scold him for making us worry so."

"Something like that," she added with a slight grin.

The Ford slowly crept back onto Hwy 80 as they made their way through the Sierras.

With a snow jacket wrapped around him, a blanket and a blasting car heater added the effort of warming Steve's still shivering body. As his clattering teeth calmed, he engaged the deputy to find out more about his rescuer. He learned that the deputy worked for the small town of Kingsbury near the state line of California. It was a small mountain town with a very small police station. Their primary task was to save stranded travellers and outdoorsmen in the rugged terrain.

"I heard about the murder at the hotel in Tahoe. It came in over the wire," Weston commented.

"Do you know Detective Daniels?" Steve asked.

"Yes, I've gone hunting with him and a couple of his men. He's a good guy." Weston read people well and knew that Steve was no harm to him. Steve told the deputy about his abduction and he thought he had talked them into returning to Tahoe, only to be stranded out in the cold.

"That's hard luck for you. Harder luck for the guy that got murdered, though." The deputy's words put things into perspective for Steve. He didn't know the victim, but to be killed shortly before Christmas would be hard on the survivors.

After a moment, Weston asked about being a cop in San Francisco and what that must be like. Steve was happy to share a war story or two. "Not much real crime happens out here," the deputy commented. "As a matter of fact, I'm the only one on duty. We have others on call to help in case there's trouble during the storm, but with Deputy Griffith home with a bad cold, it's just me."

Steve made a mental note that there was no traffic approaching them on the two lane road as they continued their drive to the police station. He could see that someone was following them but assumed that it was just another traveller.

As Weston turned off the main mountain road to a Kingsbury side street, the car followed them. Under the street light as they neared the station, Steve turned and squinted at the familiar car, "Hey, wait a minute..."

"What is it?" Weston asked.

"I don't believe it. It's them! It's the family I told you about. The ones who claim the father accidentally killed Midlem. They are the ones who dumped me!" Steve tried his hardest to keep cool.

"Just hang tight. Are you armed, by the way?" Weston wondered.

"No."

"Didn't think you were." Weston looked in his rear view mirror to see an older couple and their teenaged son exit the vehicle. "See them?"

"Yeah, I do. That's definitely them."

Weston lifted the snap that secured his gun for the second time that night and exited his vehicle. "Stay here," he instructed.

As Weston approached the family, Steve suddenly felt uneasy. The cop was alone, without backup, and this family had already murdered one person, even if it was by 'accident'. Wishing fervently that he had a gun, Steve knew that he had to get out of the warmth of the vehicle and do what he could to give support to the other lawman.

Grimacing as the cold air hit his wet clothes, Steve slid stiffly from the car. Weston had stopped Marty and Agnes was now clutching her husband's arm, looking anxious. Marty seemed to be answering whatever Weston had asked. Ryan stood slightly to one side, a scowl darkening his face. Steve felt a pang of sympathy for the youngster. He had had a tough day, first with his father accidentally killing someone and then getting involved in a kidnapping. He walked a few steps closer.

"I'd like you to come with me," Weston said to Marty and gestured to the police station.

"Yes, all right," Marty sighed and turned slowly in that direction. Weston stood aside slightly to allow Marty to precede him. Agnes was still clutching Marty's arm and had started to cry. Ryan had not moved.

"You, too, son," Weston added, glancing at Ryan.

For a long moment, Steve thought the youth was not going to budge, then the shoulders slumped and Ryan turned towards the station. Weston relaxed.

Too soon! Steve thought, but there was no time for him to warn Weston or do anything other than take the few steps necessary to close the distance between them and stop Ryan going for the cop's gun. He plunged forwards, hand reaching for Ryan's wrist and his feet slipped on the icy pavement and in the next instant, Steve found his wrist in Ryan's grasp and Weston's gun resting against his temple.

"We're not going in there," Ryan declared. "Mom, Dad; come away, please."

"Ryan," Weston warned and took a half step forwards.

"Don't come any closer!" Ryan shrieked. "I'll kill him!" The click of the safety coming off stopped everyone in their tracks.

It had been a long time since Mike had driven in snow. He remembered the advice he had been given about steering slowly and he kept his speed to sensible levels. The roads had clearly been ploughed and gritted, but the snow was relentless and Mike hoped that he was not taking both himself and Jeannie into a disaster. He wanted to put the pedal to the metal and speed to Steve's rescue, but that was impossible. The time it was taking to drive through the worsening conditions was straining his nerves to the limit.

"Steve will be okay, won't he?" Jeannie asked, her voice small. She wasn't looking at Mike; her attention was fixed out of the window, although there was nothing to see with the snow falling and the darkness.

"Yes, he will," Mike promised stoutly, not allowing a single trace of doubt to lace his voice. "Steve's tough, you know that."

"Of course," Jeannie agreed, but the anxiety in her voice tore at Mike's heart. She was an adult and she knew that even tough people could be hurt or killed by factors outside their control.

"We'll be there soon," Mike said. "I bet Steve will be waiting for us."

"Sure," Jeannie nodded.

Unhappy with the exchange, but not sure what else he could have said, Mike turned back to the road. He was feeling the strain of the unfamiliar driving conditions and fought back a tired sigh. There was no point in adding to Jeannie's worries. He risked a glance down at his watch and saw that they were making good time.

And the car began to slide.

Mike tried to correct the slide when he heard Jeannie's voice speak to him. As he did his best not to panic her or let her know they might be in trouble, he responded as calmly as he could. "What did you say, Sweetheart?"

"I said do you think he has been hurt skiing and was taken to a hospital? Maybe they just don't have any idea whom to contact since he might not have had his id with him? Lord knows there are plenty of ski accidents happening almost every day," Jeannie wondered.

"I don't know. He's an expert skier but I guess accidents can happen even to the best of us," Mike replied. He pulled from his deepest memory something Steve told him once of an experience he had. He heard Steve's voice as though he was right there with them calmly telling him what to do but he recalled it too late and the back passenger tire sank into a snow covered rut. He turned on the emergency flashers and told Jeannie to stay in the car while he got out carefully with a flashlight to assess their situation.

As he checked how badly they were stuck, a truck passed, turned around and then parked in front of their car. With their emergency flashers and brights on, the man retrieved a chain and attached it the bumper of Mike's car. Mike watched what he was doing and then decided to speak to the man. There was no response, so Mike tried again. This time, the man reached into his jacket pocket pulling out a card and handed it to Mike who placed it closer to the headlight to read. "I am Mike, I am mute."

Mike laughed at the irony and handed the card back, shaking the other Mike's hand. With hand motions, the other Mike showed him what to do. Both returned into their vehicles. Once they got Mike's car out of the rut and back on the road, they stopped again to remove the chain from Mike's car. Mike and Jeannie waved good-bye to their rescuer and were back on their way.

As they continued on their journey at a slower pace, both Jeannie and Mike were lost in silent thought and prayer. Both wished they knew what had become of Steve and wondered if the local authorities had any leads as of yet.

Jeannie had a dreadful thought. As tears fell from her eyes, she thought that Steve had not just disappeared, but was dead. Whoever killed that man at the resort had taken Steve and tortured him, thinking he knew something he did not know and ended up killing him in the process. Finally Jeannie began having body wracking sobs. Mike heard her and found a lit roadside park and pulled in. He held her trying to comfort her and find out what has caused this besides the fact that Steve is missing.

"He's dead, Mike," she whispered. "Whoever killed that man at the resort has taken Steve. I just know it."

"Jeannie, we don't know he is dead. He could just be somewhere being held against his will or he could be hurt somewhere. Yes, I do think something bad has happened to cause him not to be in touch but I refuse to believe he is dead. Try not to think that way," he soothed. "We have to keep thinking he is alive and will be with us again soon. If we give up hope, then Steve is lost and I refuse to lose that boy just as much as you do. Please try to think more positively. And who knows? If they did take him, he might have managed to get away. We just have to find him."

Back at the police station all stood stock still; the parents and Weston out of shock and fear of not knowing what Ryan might do if anyone made a move. Steve felt the gun trembling as Ryan's hand shook and began to feel a bit fearful himself. Sometimes a nervous person was deadlier than a calm person with a gun.

As he tried to think of what to say to defuse the situation he found himself in, all of sudden from behind they heard a voice say, "What in the devil is going on here?"

As Ryan's attention was distracted by the voice, Steve took a risk using a self-defence move to knock his hand away.

And then the gun went off...

Mike thought they were making progress. After being saved from an evening stuck in an icy mix, the detective and his daughter continued their way on Interstate 80 in hopes of getting to Tahoe before midnight. It was slow going, but they were able to move at a constant pace. Mike had a sinking feeling when he suddenly saw several cars approaching with their headlights on.

"What's wrong, Mike?" Jeannie asked. She saw the worried expression he wore despite the darkness.

"Lots of cars coming from the opposite direction. Not sure what's going on, but I guess we'll soon find out," he answered. As they drove over the crest of a hill, a solid line of brake lights appeared before them. He could see about a half mile ahead that people were carefully turning around. Beyond that was a series of police lights flashing red and blue against the snowy mountains.

"Daddy, what is it? An accident?" Jeannie asked.

"I don't think so, Sweetheart. I think the road is closed." Mike couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. "Let's go ahead and see what's happening up there. Perhaps I can speak to one of the patrolman. Maybe there's another way to go."

It took another half hour for Mike and Jeannie to get to the head of the line. Indeed, everyone before them turned around and headed back west. Mike rolled his window down after retrieving the badge from his breast pocket. "Excuse me, officer. My name is Mike Stone. I'm a lieutenant with the San Francisco Police Department. I need to get to Tahoe tonight."

The young highway patrolman nodded as he studied Mike's badge and saw a weathered and worried look on the man's face. "I'm sorry sir, but you won't be getting to Tahoe tonight in this weather. Interstate 80 and Highway 50 have both been closed. It's a blizzard. They are expecting nearly three feet when it's all said a done. The road crews can't keep up."

Mike nodded his understanding. "Is there any way at all I can get to Tahoe? Perhaps I can either drop farther north or farther south."

"That will take you many, many hours. How urgent is your business? Is it a police matter, sir?" the officer inquired.

"You could say that. My partner was visiting Tahoe and may have been a material witness to a murder at a hotel there."

"Hey, not the murder at Mount Sumner?" the officer inquired.

"That's the one. We've lost contact with our man there and we're quite concerned something has happened."

"Yes, it came out on the wire. A man named Midlem was killed. Another man is now missing," the officer repeated what he had heard. "Look, Lieutenant, like I said, the roads are closed. Your best bet now would be to fly into Reno, then get a car and drive over to Tahoe. The roads aren't nearly as bad there. It's the mountain passes here that are the problem."

"Daddy, does he mean we have to go all the way back to San Francisco?" Jeannie spoke quietly.

"No, young lady, there's a regional airport in Sacramento with flights that make regular short hops to Reno. Your best bet would be to go back to Sacramento and see if you could either get on one of the short hoppers. If that doesn't work, perhaps try the airport administrator to see if there might be something they can do. Sometimes there's room on a cargo plane."

Mike thanked the officer and resigned himself to the idea that they would turn back. He looked at the clock on the dash and figured it would be quite late by the time they got to Sacramento.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

As Ryan became distracted, Steve spun out of his reach before the gun discharged. The bullet whizzed past Steve as he felt a slight sting to the side of his arm. Ignoring the discomfort, he tackled Ryan, knocking the gun from his hand. Weston jumped quickly to retrieve the gun and held the suspect at gunpoint. Deputy Griffith, feeling well enough to make the rest of his shift, had his gun drawn as well.

"Hey, partner," Weston called out. "Good to see you!"

"Glad I could be here", Griffith replied. "All year with so little crime and what do we get right before Christmas?"

"Oh no!" Agnes responded. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were turning ourselves in!"

"Sure you were," Steve replied sarcastically as he checked the side of his borrowed snow jacket and found a good sized gash.

"No, Inspector Keller, you have to believe us. We came back for you when we saw this car pick you up. We decided to follow you to make sure you were okay."

"How kind," Steve replied in a still sarcastic tone.

"No, it's true," Marty answered. "We shouldn't have left you there and we knew it. It was wrong."

"That's an understatement," Weston added. He was slightly relieved that Steve's story had been easily confirmed.

Marty pleaded, "But Ryan…the boy is just scared. He doesn't want anything to happen to us. Please don't arrest him."

Griffith answered back, "Let's get this sorted out inside. For now, everyone with their hands up!"

Weston looked over to Steve who was fiddling who stood with his hand over his injury trying to suppress the sting. "You okay? You need an ambulance?"

"I'm fine," Steve answered automatically. "Better than your jacket, unfortunately," he said as he showed the deputy the hole with some of the jacket's insulation peeking out.

"You're not hit?" Weston pressed.

"It's probably just a scratch," Steve answered. "It usually is," he mumbled, still confounded by the fact that he managed to find trouble even while on vacation. He turned to follow the others into the station.

* * *

Mike and Jeannie made it to the small regional airport in Sacramento just before midnight. Their journey from the mountains was more frustrating than before. Conditions worsened along the way, so all Mike could do was take it slow and easy. Once they passed Auburn, the road opened up again and he was able to make up some time. Still, he was not optimistic on their chances of flying out that late.

While the airport was open, there were very few people around. He found a schedule of flights and was correct in his assumption that no further flights were scheduled until morning. A security guard noticed the weary travellers and asked if he could be of assistance.

Mike showed the guard his badge and explained their situation. "We need to get to Tahoe quickly, but the mountain roads are closed."

"Yes, I've heard the storm has been terrible. It's one of the worst blizzards they've had in a while," he remarked. He reached for a walkie-talkie and buzzed another worker at the airport.

"I can't promise anything," the guard told Mike as an aside. "Darryl," he said loudly into the device. "Darryl, we've got a police lieutenant from San Francisco and a young woman who need to get over the mountains to reach one of his men. We got any cargo planes or med units headed out tonight yet?"

"Checking…" came the disembodied voice. A few moments later, he spoke again. "Not much except for a 9-seater that's going to Reno. It's a last minute deal. A couple of guys were trying to deliver a shipment of wood carvings to a place near Tahoe, but they ran into problems and had to turn back. In addition to the guys, there's a pilot and a ton of wrapped presents, but perhaps they might have room. Have your people meet me over at gate 15."

Mike was happy to accept any help at this point that would get him closer to where Steve was last seen. As they reached gate 15, Mike saw the man he thought was Darryl speaking with three other men. One was clearly the pilot, a shorter brown haired gentleman wearing a uniformed shirt and a pilot's jacket. One of the other men was a bearded older man, while the third man appeared younger and taller, but was hard to describe since his back was turned. The pilot and older man had frowns on their faces, but nodded in agreement with what Darryl was asking. Perhaps there's hope yet, Mike thought to himself.

When Darryl saw Mike, Jeannie and the security guard, he looked at the trio and said, "You're in luck. These two men are willing to share the plane with you. But you'll have to sit in the back with their cargo."

Mike turned and nodded to the two men, both of whom had costumes on hangers draped over their shoulders. One was red and one was green. The older man holding the red costume turned and smiled at Mike and Jean. "I'm Nicholas," he said as he introduced himself. "Mikey and I were headed through the mountain pass to deliver toys we'd carved to a home for needy children, but we had to turn around when we found the road had closed. Sounds like you are in the same boat," he pondered.

Mike looked at the other man and was stunned to see that "Mikey" was the same man who helped him tow his car out of the ice. He smiled as he warmly shook both men's hands. "Actually, I met Mikey on the road – he had pulled over to help my daughter and me."

"Oh, that was you, huh? Ah, yes, I was in the truck as well taking a cat nap. Mikey is as strong as an ox, so I knew it would take nothing for him to chain your car to ours."

"You were there and gone in a flash," Mike said as he turned to Mikey and smiled. "Thank you again," he said slowly to where the deaf man could read his lips.

The muted Mike did nothing but smile widely, but it warmed both Mike and Jeannie's hearts and gave them reassurance that perhaps things would be okay.

Jeannie felt the excitement of the day creeping up on her. She moved closer to her father and leaned her head against his shoulder. Mike pulled his padded jacket around both of them, when he felt a gentle hand on his arm and turned around. The mute man Mikey was by his side handing him a warm blanket. Mike accepted it gratefully and covered his sleepy daughter. He sincerely hoped that at least one of them would get a bit of a shut eye. The monotonous engine noises seemed to have a soporific effect on the young woman and soon her breathing became deep and regular. Mike looked at his daughter. Her worried features had relaxed and once more she resembled the little girl that he had watched sleeping so many times. Mike's heart was heavy with concern for Steve, his second child, as he had come to think of him. He had managed to keep his little girl safe until now, but what about his boy? Was he out there in the cold? Was he hurt? How long could someone survive out there? Mike sighed deeply.

The man who had introduced himself as Nicolas looked at Mike and the compassion in his eyes was as heart-warming as Mikey's smile. "Whatever troubles you my friend, have faith. Don't ever underestimate the wonder of Christmas. Miracles happen…"

Mike sighed again. A miracle… Oh dear God!

"Why don't you tell what is on your mind? Sometimes talking about things makes you see them clearer. Even if we may not be able to help you, we are both good listeners."

Mike looked at Nicolas incredulously. The man chuckled. "Don't underestimate Mikey! He listens with his eyes- and with his heart!" Mike glanced across the aisle where the deaf-mute man was sitting. Mikey nodded encouragingly and smiled.

Mike swallowed hard and started.

* * *

Meanwhile Steve had followed the two deputies and their prisoners into the comparatively warm building. In spite of the thick jacket he was wearing, he still felt chilled to the bone. Griffith and Weston acted like a perfect team- Griffith turned up the thermostat of the heating higher, while Weston put on a fresh pot of coffee. Steve pulled up a chair next to the radiator, trying to soak up as much warmth as he could.

Weston eyed him with concern. "Griff- could you try and find some dry clothes for our friend here while I keep an eye on our special guests?" He nodded towards the subdued group, huddled together trying to support each other. The two men stood on either side of the silently sobbing Agnes, arms around her.

Weston beckoned towards a table and chairs. "Here, sit down, but no funny business. " He pushed a box of tissues towards the family.

Griffith returned with an armful of clothes and some towels. "There, I found a few spare sweats in various lockers. The sooner you get out of your wet clothes the sooner you will feel warm again." The Deputy directed Steve towards an adjoining office, where he could peel off his clammy garments. The sleeve of his turtleneck jumper was wet and sticky with blood and he gingerly prised the fabric away from the gash. As predicted the crease wasn't deep and the blood was beginning to clot already. Still, the wound would require some cleaning and a sterile dressing. Steve felt a pang of wistfulness when he thought how Mike would fuss… Mike-oh my God! I'd better ring him before he tries to get hold of me at the hotel…

Towelled dry, Steve felt the circulation returning to his limbs. He put on a pair of ill-fitting pants and a short sleeved t shirt. He needed some help with dressing the wound, before he could slip the warm sweatshirt on. Although he still felt cold, the shivers that had wracked his body had stopped. When he went back into the main office the coffee had perked and everybody was sitting around the table companionably, nursing steaming mugs of the black brew. Weston pulled out a chair for Steve and handed him a mug of coffee. "I put plenty of sugar in it, you look a bit peaky. Griff- is there any food?"

Steve shook his head; all he wanted was something hot. Weston brought the First Aid Box over and busied himself with the crease on Steve's arm. The sight of the bleeding gash brought a fresh stream of tears from Agnes. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! None of this was supposed to happen! We only wanted to talk some sense into Midlem…"

"Look, Sheriff, my wife has nothing to do with any of this, I was the one who panicked and dumped the young man on the road. You should have heard the earful I got from Agnes when she realised what I had done! And she made me turn round as soon as possible to go back for him." Marty interrupted her.

Agnes looked up from behind her tissue and gave him a teary smile.

"No, officer, I am the one to blame, I grabbed the gun and it is my fault that Keller got injured. I guess I just lost it…" Ryan interjected.

"One after the other! Let's start at the beginning!" Deputy Weston cut the self-accusations short.

While Griffith took down the personal details for the report, Weston finished bandaging up Steve's arm and helped him put on the sweatshirt.

"Thanks; the arm is as good as new. But before I can give you my part of the story I really need to make an urgent phone call." Steve was getting quite anxious to talk to Mike.

Griffith looked up from the form he was filling in. "You and most of the town. The phone lines are down and the way things are no repair crew will be out to fix them until the blizzard has blown over."

Steve felt his stomach lurch with apprehension. Knowing Mike he had probably made contact with the hotel already, trying to warn him against driving under treacherous road conditions only to find out that Steve had gone missing. Unless- unless of course all the phone lines were down and he couldn't get through to the hotel in the first place, which might even worry him more. Oh, how he hated to worry his friend!

Weston added: "No communication with Detective Daniels either, no reinforcements, no cavalry! I tried the radio earlier on, but the static is too bad." He shrugged his shoulders. "We'd better make ourselves comfortable and prepare for a long night. I just wish we had something decent to eat!"

"Wait a minute!" Ryan piped up. "Mom, didn't you pack some sandwiches and cookies?"

Agnes nodded, happy that she could contribute something useful to help them over the long night.

Weston looked at the family with a hint of suspicion.

"Great stuff, but I'll better get the food myself; we don't want anyone going AWOL at this stage, do we?"


	7. Chapter 7

a/n: We'll be posting 3 chapters and an epilogue quite quickly. This is as a special thank you to Dublin Writer for her incredible ongoing story. We've enjoyed reading this so much!

**Chapter 7**

* * *

"So, that's the gist of it!" Mike finished his story.

Nicolas remained silent to let the meaning of the words sink in. It was Mikey who reacted first, he grabbed Nicolas' arm to get his attention and started gesticulating in what Mike assumed was sign language. He also jotted down some words on the little note pad he was carrying. Nicolas nodded and replied with some signs, too. Then he addressed Mike. "Mikey remembers some rumours he heard about this guy Midlem." He chuckled. "People always assume that Mikey can't communicate just because he is deaf and mute and talk freely in his presence."

Mikey resumed signing and Nicolas translated "Anyway- there is a story going round that Midlem cheated a half senile old lady out of some valuable property. Her son-in-law has been in trouble with the law before for violence."

He described everything that Mikey had learned and gave Mike the notes that the mute man had written down, hoping it might help the Detective in his search for his missing friend.

"Your route from Reno to Mount Sumner will certainly bring you that direction." Nicolas told and with a twinkle in his eye he added: "And don't forget the wonder of Christmas!"

Mike nodded gratefully. At least he had a solid clue now and the encounter with these two unusual men had left him feeling oddly comforted. He bent over to wake up his daughter as they were due to land in Reno in a few more minutes.

After all had eaten, with exception of Steve, Weston and Griffith listened to and documented each of their stories. Steve kept watching the trio as they spoke following the lessons he had learned from Mike to gauge their truthfulness. He kept sensing there was something each one was holding back from him and the two deputies but could not put his finger on exactly what.

When they were finally finished telling all that they would say, Weston and Griffith put them in holding cells to give them time to check everything out once communication was restored. Once the family was locked away, Steve and the deputies compared notes on what the three had said and what was to be their next move. Steve did not mince words about his mistrust of them feeling there was something being held back but could not figure out what that something was.

Sitting quietly, after they had covered all the bases they could, Steve's thoughts turned to Mike and Jeannie. He knew they had to be worried by now and wished there was some way to get word to them that he had not just flaked out, but had a good excuse for his lateness. All of a sudden they all heard a huge clap of thunder and see flashes of lightning.

"Sounds like thundersnow," Weston observed.

At that moment as Mike woke Jeannie on the plane. She looked around as though not sure where they were.

"We are about to land in Reno, sweetheart, and then on to find Steve," Mike assured her.

"I hope he is all right. I keep having this nagging feeling that something is wrong with him other than just being missing," Jeannie said.

"We will all be together again soon. You can count on it, Jeannie," Mike said as he tried to convince his daughter all would be fine.

But just then, lightning hit one of their engines and engulfed it in flames.

Immediately the plane began to shake as the pilot tried to keep it in balance while he hectically radioed the airport's tower, swearing under his breath. Luckily for them the airport was rather empty so they got the go-ahead for an emergency landing.

"Hold on back there, this is not gonna be a walk in the park!" Nicholas shouted over his shoulder. That didn't sound comforting at all but there was nothing either of them as passengers could do so they had to trust the pilot's abilities.

Can this day get any worse? Mike thought grimly as he put his arms protectively around his daughter, pulling her in close as if that could somehow keep her safe from harm if they would crash to the ground. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she clung to him.

"We're gonna be okay," he spoke softly to Jeannie. Words of assurance that he, for once, actually did feel. Because in spite of everything that had happened to them, every obstacle they had encountered on their way, someone seemed to protect them, to look out for them. Closing his eyes, he braced himself in anticipation for the impact. Which, much to his relief, didn't come. The contact with the ground was anything but gentle, but at least they had made it down in one piece.

"Are you okay?" Weston came over to where Steve was standing by the window, observing the still heavily falling snow.

Griffith had retreated to a small room in the back of the station to take a well-deserved nap. Something the inspector should do, too, but his mind was too active for him to be able to fall asleep.

He turned his head around. "Yeah. I was just thinking about my friends back in San Francisco. I'm supposed to be there tomorrow for dinner with them. At the moment I don't see that's gonna happen." His gaze went back to the black and white scenery outside.

"Something troubles you, besides that, I mean," the other man observed. "You said earlier that you thought they," he pointed in the general direction of the holding cells, "would keep something from us."

This time, Steve turned around fully. "There's something wrong here, something we're missing. I just can't put my finger on it."

"Why don't we go over it again, see if it jogs any memory," the dark-haired man suggested and fetched the small stack of paper from his desk before he pulled out two chairs from the nearby table. "It's not like we have something else to do until this storm clears up," he added with a shrug.

Steve gave him a tired half-smile and sat down with a sigh. At least it kept him from worrying about his friends being worried about him. And maybe there was indeed something to find in the statements, because during the suspects giving them information, Steve had paid more attention to how it had been said than what had been. So combing through them might be a good idea. Something had triggered his suspicion, it could very well be that he had picked up on some inconsistency on a subconscious level.

"Okay, let's do this." He took the top sheet and began to read.

Mike shook both men's hands. "Thank you," he simply said, hoping it would convey his gratitude for everything they had done for him and Jeannie. Not just the rescue after their little detour off the road and the plane ride here but also for giving them hope again. And he hoped that Nicholas was right about the Christmas miracle, they sure could use one.

"Anytime," Nicholas replied with a grin and the cop had a feeling the man actually meant it. "I hope you'll find your friend."

They parted and the Stone's made their way into the airport's main building. Once inside Mike considered taking the opportunity to check in with Hasseejian. His daughter seemed to have read his thoughts because she offered, "Why don't I go and see if they have a car for us to rent." A small smile despite the situation was on her face, the first in hours, and Mike welcomed the sight.

"Thanks, sweetie, I'll be right with you." Walking over to the public phones on the wall he put in some change and dialled the familiar number.

"SFPD, Detective Hasseejian," the voice on the other end greeted him and Mike noticed with a pang of guilt the tiredness in it.

"It's Stone. Are there any news on Steve?" he enquired anxiously.

"Sorry, Mike, communication is still down in the area for the most part, I hardly got through to Detective Daniels the last time. I did find something new on the vic though. He has a nice little file in New York. About two years ago he had been questioned repeatedly by the police after a family had accused him of fraud. Apparently he had wormed his way into an old lady's confidence and convinced her that the house she was about to sell wasn't worth a dime due to the ground being contaminate with some kind of toxin. The problem was the old lady's failing memory, so her word was against his. They didn't have enough evidence to charge him, so they had to let him go. But get this; he seems to have a partner in crime, literally. NYPD had identified him as one Joe Fraser, he worked for a real-estate agent. But before they could get him in for questioning, he disappeared. They don't have much on that guy except a juvie record, he seems to have quite a history of assault as a teen."

Mike stored the information away for later. "That sounds familiar, apparently Midlem did the same here from what I've been told."

"I'll keep digging," Norm promised.

"Thanks," the lieutenant said, "I appreciate your help."

"It's nothing. Just find Steve and bring him home safe, will ya?"

"We will. I'll check in with you again when we we're in Tahoe, hopefully by then I'll have more information." Seeing Jeannie coming his way with a car key dangling from her hand, he quickly added, "I have to go, bye." He hung up and walked over to her before they went in search of their next mean of transportation.

It was a little more than an hour till Christmas Eve but right now that didn't matter at all. Mike had to admit he was glad the day was almost over because it sure didn't seem to be a good one for them and, if Jeannie's feeling were anything to go by, not for his partner either.

Finishing the statement in his hands, Steve reached for the last piece of paper. It wasn't another statement as he had thought but a handwritten note. Looking closer, he noticed that it was a BOLO. To be precise, one for the suspects in a murder at the Mount Sumner ski resort.

"Is this what came over the wire regarding the murder?" he asked, handing it over for the deputy to see.

Taking a quick glance at the note, Weston nodded slowly. "I think so. Griffith was home due to the cold, so I had a young deputy working his shift. I was more out than in; lots of people got stuck because of the weather. He told me about it when I was here briefly but I didn't have time to read it myself. I actually forgot about it till now."

The descriptions given fit Marty and his , which wasn't really a surprise. After all, they'd been to the resort multiple times in just a couple of hours so odds were that someone had noticed them. Which made it more than little ironic that they had grabbed a person who hadn't.

What had caught Steve's attention wasn't so much the fact that they weren't looking for a single killer either, though he was surprised they knew that. It was the description for a third person, a red-haired man with a scar above his left eyebrow.

It sounded familiar to the inspector, like he had seen this person earlier. But since he had practically been crowded at the resort after the murder it could very well have been someone who just had the misfortune to share the same facial features.

Steve sighed. They were no closer to figure out what the family was hiding.

But he had a feeling this person was the key to it.

Outside the station a dark figure with a distinct scar on his face was lying in wait. He would get this deed no matter what it took.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Mike and Jeannie only stopped for a few more minutes to freshen up in the restroom and to save time they got their thermos refilled rather than stop for coffee. Mike was so high on adrenaline after the bumpy plane ride that he felt he could do without a caffeine buzz for a while, but another couple of hours on the road and he might feel differently about it!

Father and daughter reluctantly left the shelter of the airport building to find their rental car in the snow covered parking lot. To Mike's great relief the snow was not as bad as on the mountain pass and he felt confident that he could negotiate the slippery roads. He was glad to see that Jeannie had managed to rent a sturdy and safe car, fitted with snow chains already.

The parking lot was quiet, as you would expect so late at night, but not too far from them there was some activity going on. Of course, Mikey and Nicolas! Like Mike and Jeannie they needed transport to get to their final destination. At the moment they were busy loading their boxes with wooden toys into a small truck.

"Sweetheart, I'll just go over and give them a hand; we owe them far more than that! You get the heater in the car going!" Mike gave Jeannie the car keys and squeezed her hand as he dropped their bags next to the car.

Mikey and Nicolas greeted him with a smile and let him help with the last few boxes. Mike realized well that his help was more of a token action, but he was glad he could at least do something for his benefactors.

He caught a glimpse of the expertly carved toys and whistled softly. "This is beautiful, just beautiful! You must spend the whole year doing this. These are works of art!"

Nicolas smiled. "Well, we both enjoy doing it. I'm just a craftsman, but Mikey is the proper artist; he adds the finishing touches and brings the figures to life." He pointed at a little carved foal craning its neck as if there was something enticing on the far side of the fence.

Mike smiled and imagined the joy of a pony mad little girl finding this beautiful gift in her stocking.

Mikey looked at him and slapped his head to indicate he had forgotten something. Then he took something out of the pocket of his heavy overcoat and pressed it in Mike's hand. A small crumpled brown paper bag that seemed to contain something hard and oddly shaped.

Nicolas spoke for his friend. "Happy Christmas! This is one of Mikey's special puzzles. One part is for you, one for your daughter and one for your friend. The three pieces fit together to create a shape. It's actually harder to put together than you think!" Mike glanced into the bag and saw three filigree pieces of beautifully structured wood. Nicolas pre-empted Mike's protests and said. "Take it as a good luck charm and as something to remember us by! Now we must be on our way and you too, my friend! Godspeed!"

Somehow Mike wasn't surprised by the old fashioned farewell. He waved his hand once more and then went back to Jeannie and the rental car. The interior had heated up nicely and the windscreen was free of ice and snow. The next leg of their seemingly never ending journey was about to begin

"Weston!" he called out. "He's out there!" and instinctively jumped away from the brightly illuminated window and let himself drop on the floor, pulling the Deputy with him.

* * *

As they were leaving the airport grounds, Mike realized that he wasn't clear on where he and his daughter were headed. Moderate wet snow came down, but he was happy to see that it melted as it hit the windshield instead of sticking. Redirecting his thoughts on reaching the resort, he commented, "Many of the ski resorts have turn-offs near the lake. There's a south road and a north road. If I knew which way would be closer, I'd pick the shorter route."

Jeannie opened up a bag of chips she managed to acquire from a vending machine and handed the snacks to her father. "Here, thought you might like a little something. I had some spare change in the bottom of my bag. There are a couple of bags of chips and two packages of cakes. I've got some drinks, too."

"What kind of cakes?" Mike asked as crunched the first of the salty chips.

"Chocolate with white creme and then a yellow sponge cake with white creme," Jeannie responded with a smirk he could not see.

"Kid food. Well, beggars can't be choosers, so I'll take the sponge cake," Mike replied. "But let me cleanse my palette after the chips."

Jeannie giggled. While their search for Steve could end in a way that she didn't want to consider, the time she was spending with her father reminded her of just how special he was. Their world could be falling apart around them, but only he could make her feel safe and secure.

Now at the point where her father needed to make a decision to turn right or left, Jeannie responded, "And to answer your question, take the south road. I asked the attendant at the rental car agency the best way to get to Mount Sumter. He said the road conditions weren't good either way, but that the south road would get us to the resort in fewer miles."

Pleased that his daughter asked questions, he felt a wave of relief and took the main road exit south. "Sweetheart, with this weather, it could take us a while to get there. I just hope I can keep you warm enough."

"We'll be fine. We have our bags with our extra clothes. And in case we get stranded and very hungry, we also have the honey gingerbread I made for Steve."

"Say, why aren't we eating that instead of this junk food?" Mike asked suspiciously.

"Because it's for Steve," she answered with a defiant air. "I didn't carry it all this way not to give it to him. Unless of course, we get stranded."

Mike simply nodded his head. While he felt miles better as they left the airport than he did when they arrived, he knew that he and his daughter were on their own.

Steve peered around the window frame to see the dark figure roaming around the vehicles. Deputy Weston turned out the lights in the front area of the small station house to help them see better into the darkness. The action also made them less of a target. He was only seconds behind the vacationing detective in his assessment of the situation they faced.

"Recognize him?" Weston asked quietly.

"I think so. I remember seeing him in the crowd just after the housekeeper found the body. There were several people in the room and I saw his reflection in the mirror. I ushered him and the others out so I could secure the scene." Steve answered. He secretly wished he had his gun at that moment, but instead flashed backed to the instance when he handed it to Mike as he stopped off at his partner's home on the way out of town several days earlier. The last thing I thought was that I should bring a weapon with me skiing. A voice kept telling me, 'Don't leave home without it...' Where have I heard that before?

Weston continued to observe the scarred man outside and realized that he was targeting the family's car. "What's he looking for?" he asked aloud.

"My guess is the deed. They took it back from Midlem and now our new friend out there wants it," Steve added.

"What could be on that land that would be worth all of this?" Weston pondered.

"I think we already know that," Steve replied. "The property is near Carson City and apparently a new silver vein was found nearby. Midlem was telling the family - actually Agnes's mother - that prior mining had made the property unstable."

"I'm guessing that was a crock," Weston mused.

Steve nodded his head. With the car door already unlocked, the mysterious red headed man quickly slid into the front seat and began rifling through the seat. He leaned to the passenger side and then opened the glove compartment. Steve saw a flash of light from what must have been the suspect's flashlight. All remained quiet for a moment as the suspect quickly looked over his findings. A deed to property in Carson City.

Folding the document and stuffing it inside his coat, the man exited the family's car and made a mad dash to his own vehicle.

"Okay, enough games," Weston replied as he pulled the gun from his holster before he burst outside. "Stay down," he instructed Steve as an afterthought.

Steve was surprised at how quickly the deputy reacted once Weston decided to make a move.

"Hold it!" Weston yelled from the steps of the station. "Police, stop right there!"

The mysterious man had darkness and shadows as his allies and boldly slid into the passenger side of his own vehicle and ducked beyond Weston's view. In no time, the engine was on and the car chunked wildly backward through the snow into the side street which lead back to one of the main roads around Tahoe.

The south road...


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Have you got a spare weapon?" Steve asked, as he joined the frustrated Weston outside.

"Yeah." The deputy didn't waste any more time; he ran back, retrieved the gun and they hurried to the patrol car. At this hour, the streets were deserted, and it wasn't hard to follow the tire tracks in the snow. Weston drove expertly in the poor conditions, pushing the speed of his car to the limits of the weather conditions. "The good thing is, he won't be able to go that fast," Weston commented. "And perhaps he'll get reckless if he sees us in his rear view." He sounded quite gleeful at that notion.

It took several minutes, but they did catch up to the fleeing redhead. The car in front was driving quite sedately, but they knew the moment he spotted them in his rear view mirror, as his speed increased and he began to fish-tail all over the road. "Pull over already," Steve muttered as the car in front narrowly missed a parked vehicle.

"He's not going to quit," Weston observed. "He's heading out of town."

"He must be pretty desperate," Steve agreed. "I wonder how much silver there is under that land out there."

"Could be quite a bit," Weston replied, casually steering into a skid while Steve gulped nervously. "You know this area was all but founded on the silver mines. Didn't you ever watch Bonanza?"

"Of course I did," Steve smiled. "I wanted to be Little Joe."

Laughing, the deputy kept his eyes on the road. They had cleared the outskirts of town now, and he edged the speed up slightly. He didn't want this man getting away. "That's why the called the show Bonanza," he explained. "Because it was a silver bonanza and the towns grew up around the mines." Again, he casually corrected the car's slide. "And when the silver dried up, the towns had to find something else to support them. Now it's skiing and gambling and tourism."

"Look!" Steve cried, pointing ahead, as though Weston was looking anywhere but at the road.

The deputy's wish had come to pass. The redhead had hit a patch of ice and was travelling too fast. The car was no longer just fish-tailing; it was waltzing around in dizzying circles. The headlights caught both men in the following car right in the eyes, and they both winced. Then the lights were gone again and Steve gasped as he realised that the car was now travelling towards them and they had nowhere to go to escape. He became aware that another car was approaching from the other direction and hoped that the driver did not get caught up in the same deadly dance as them.

"Hang on!" Weston cried, as he spun the wheel as gently as he could, trying to get the patrol car out of the way of the other, out of control, vehicle.

"What's going on there?" Mike asked. It was a rhetorical question, but he couldn't help himself. "They're in real trouble!"

"Slow down!" Jeannie cried, as though Mike had been driving fast in the first place. "Oh, Mike, are they going to crash?"

As Mike brought their car to a controlled stop, they heard the shriek of metal from the other vehicles. "Stay here," Mike ordered grimly. "I'll go and see what's happened."

"Be careful," Jeannie pleaded as Mike stepped out into the wintery night and made his way towards the crash.

* * *

As the cars seemed to collide from the sound of metal, Mike shone a flashlight toward where he had heard the sounds. He saw nothing except for one car that was semi crumpled in between two trees.

He moved closer seeing a red headed person trapped in the car yelling his head off. He ascertained that the person did not seem to be hurt in any way just trapped and furious.

He moved closer to the road's edge to see what had happened to the other vehicle he and Jeannie had seen. He saw the other car down a slight embankment and one person was seen pulling themselves out of the side window.

At a glance he could see a sheriff's uniform and knew it was not the person he and Jeannie had been seeking all this time.

From the corner of his eye he saw another light bobbing off to his left and realized his daughter had exited the car.

"Jeannie, I thought you were to wait in the car," Mike called worriedly.

"I wanted to help, you always said two heads were better than one so that should go for two sets of eyes too," Jeannie answered.

As her light played over the area she thought she saw something and let out a sharp gasp as she whipped her light back toward what she saw. She realized what she had seen was not imagined and kept her light aimed at the form on the ground not far from the car that had gone down the embankment.

"Mike, it's Steve!" Jeannie exclaimed excitedly.

She started to make her way down slowly toward the form that was now starting to move as though he was knocked unconscious when thrown from the car.

* * *

Mike threw all caution in the wind, slid down the embankment as fast as he could and beat Jeannie to the prostrate body in the snow. He knelt down next to young man, shone the torch beam in his face and frantically started palpating his head and limbs for injuries.

"Jeannie, you're right, it's Steve" he called out to his daughter with relief flooding his heart. "Sweetheart, I need you to go back to the car and get a blanket, a warm sweater and the First Aid box. "

The young woman hesitated.

"He's fine, darling, but we need to keep him warm, okay?"

Jeannie nodded and slowly scrambled back up the slope.

Now Mike could concentrate fully on the task on hand. He gently slid his hands over Steve's head again where he had felt a bump earlier on. The young man had just about regained consciousness and was still disorientated, but he tried to get up. "Easy now, easy. Just stay still for a little while longer!" Mike soothed.

Steve's eyes snapped open and he looked at his mentor in disbelief. "No, you can't be here, Mike. Impossible!" He blinked, trying to clear his vision.

"Impossible to get away from me, you mean! When Jeannie and I heard you went missing, we set out to find you."

"Aww, Mike, you always worry too much!" Steve's speech was a little slurred but he seemed to be coherent.

Mike laughed out loud. "Obviously I worry for a reason, buddy boy!" He filled his ever present white handkerchief with a handful of snow and pressed it against the swelling right under Steve's hairline. "At least there is no shortage of ice for cooling your lumps and bumps. There now, you hold that in place!" Steve complied without putting up a fight. Then Mike proceeded to check his friend's limbs for fractures or sprains, but everything seemed to be alright. Steve only winced and let out an involuntary yelp when Mike touched his left arm.

"It's only a crease, Mike and we've cleaned that up already!" the injured man tried to explain.

"Only a crease. Sure. Buddy boy, what did you get yourself into?" Mike chided while he helped the shivering young man into the padded jacket that he had been wearing.

"I didn't do anything, just to put the record straight." Steve defended himself.

"Sure, sure, you can tell me about it later, especially how you ended up here in a snow drift without a jacket." The older man already felt the cold and the piercing wind and was glad when he saw his daughter and the man in the sheriff's uniform approaching. Jeannie must have gone through all the bags they had and had found a sweater for the Deputy to wear, too. She threw a thick turtleneck down the slope towards Mike who deftly caught it in mid-air and quickly put it on.

Weston introduced himself and threw a rope that he had fastened to a tree trunk down to Mike and Steve to help them with the climb back up the slope. With Weston and Jeannie pulling and Mike pushing and steadying, they had Steve hauled back up soon. Propped up between Weston and Mike they led him to the Stone's rental car and put him on the back seat. "Jeannie, you get in there with Steve and make sure he doesn't fall asleep. We need to get him checked out for head injuries, so don't give him anything to eat or drink yet."

Steve glanced at his mentor. "_He_ may have concussion, but _he_ is neither deaf nor is _he_ stupid!"

"We'll decide about the "stupid" bit after you have told me the whole story!" Mike joked. He put a blanket over the two young people and fixed them with a steely glare. "And no hanky-panky, understood?"

"Mike!" both shouted in unison. Mike left them with a last wag of his finger and a broad smile. Now it was up to him and Weston to organise the rescue of the man trapped in the car.

The Deputy filled Mike in on what they knew about the red headed man's involvement in the case.

Mike recapped: "So he could be the one who actually did the killing while father and son thought they did it? We'd better haul him back to Detective Daniels to sort it all out! By the way, did you get through to him?"

Weston nodded. "It's like a miracle, after hours of nothing but static on the airwaves I got a clear radio signal the moment I tried the radio after the crash. Reinforcements are on their way." He paused for a moment. "A miracle, yes it is a miracle that you found him. He was talking about you and your daughter and was anxious to get in touch with you."

"Yes" Mike agreed with a smile. "A miracle! But isn't it the season for miracles and wonders?"

Slowly the two men plodded towards the crashed car, as ready for yet another rescue as you could be in the small hours of the morning.

Fortunately it didn't take too long until Detective Daniels and his partner arrived. As soon as radio contact had been re-established Deputy Griffith had contacted Daniels and alerted him to the whereabouts of the wanted men.

It took four men, a crow bar and a tyre lever to prise the dented door open and help the trapped man out - only to arrest him straight away under suspicion of murder. All of a sudden the suspect clammed up and demanded a doctor and a lawyer.

"I suppose your friend should see a doctor, too!" Weston suggested.

The two crashed cars had to remain at the scene until a recovery crew could bring them into town, but Daniels and his partner took care of the prisoner while Weston volunteered to drive Steve and the Stones. Mike agreed readily. The last thing he fancied now was another stint of driving. He felt the long day and even longer night weighing heavily on him. Now, that he knew Steve was safe the tension was gone and all he wanted to do was sleep…

Sleep… He opened the back door of the car and looked in. Jeannie was fast asleep, curled up against Steve, who had manfully tried to stay awake. He greeted Mike with a drowsy smile.

"Move over, you! After you sent my daughter to the land of nod you can try the same with me while you tell me your story!" Mike slid onto the back seat and pulled some of the blanket over himself.

"I think we can forget about a good night's sleep, but I'll settle for a good day's sleep too." Mike yawned, but got no answer from Steve, who had succumbed to exhaustion as well. Mike considered for a moment to wake him up, but decided to let his protégé rest for at least a few minutes, while he closed his eyes, too…

When Weston looked in the rear view mirror a few minutes later all three of them were curled up together, fast asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Epilogue**

* * *

The nap in the back of the car proved to be the only sleep they would get for the rest of the night. Steve moaned and groaned about being poked and prodded at the local hospital, but was quite glad, when all was said and done, to be thoroughly warmed and to have been given some decent painkillers. His headache was not quite gone, but it was muted enough that he was feeling less deathly. When Steve was released, with no signs of a concussion, but a warning to keep an eye on him for the next 24 hours, Weston drove them back to the police station in Tahoe.

There, Mike filled in what he had learned from Nicholas and Mikey about Fraser, the scarred red haired man. Steve told Daniels what he remembered about seeing Fraser in the mirror at the hotel. Agnes, Marty and Ryan, who had been brought to the station, told their stories again. Fraser had been searched and the deed to Agnes' mother's property had been found in his jacket pocket. The jigsaw pieces were fitting together quite nicely.

Combining forces, Daniels, Weston, Mike and Steve questioned Fraser thoroughly and despite the court-appointed lawyer telling Fraser to keep quiet, the persistent questioning got to the man. He was caught this time, red handed, and he was not going to get away. "All right! I went into that hotel room to find the deed. Midlem was trying to diddle me out of my share of the profits, but I wasn't going to let him get away with that. He was unconscious on the floor when I found him. I searched the room, but it wasn't there, so I shook him awake and tried to make him tell me where it was." He glared at the cops. "Stupid git had gone and had it stolen from him, hadn't he?" he asked rhetorically. "His usefulness was over."

"What did you do?" Daniels asked with admirable neutrality.

"I hit him on the head with a bottle," Fraser replied. "Then I left him there. He deserved everything he got!" he spat.

The cops exchanged a glance. A second blow to the head, so soon after the first, was almost certainly the cause of death. Had Midlem been found after the first blow and taken to a hospital, there was every chance he might have survived. However, the second blow was too much. Marty, Agnes and Ryan had not killed Midlem. "I've heard enough," Daniels declared. "You are under arrest for the murder of Grant Midlem. You are further charged with theft and conspiracy to defraud."

"You can't make any of that stick," Fraser shouted defiantly as he was taken to the cells.

Sighing, for it had been a long and trying day, Steve eased his stiff shoulders. He just wanted to go home to bed and sleep for about 100 years. Somewhere outside, Jeannie was waiting patiently for them. It was Christmas Eve and he had promised to be home that day. It didn't look as though that was going to happen. "What about Agnes, Marty and Ryan?" he asked.

"They'll face some charges, too," Daniels replied. "After all, they did assault Midlem, although I don't altogether blame them for that, and you didn't hear me say that," he added. "Plus kidnapping worse it's actually your Christmas present," Jeannie replied and blushed. "I brought it with us what can I say?" Steve asked, looking askance at the digital radio alarm clock. "It's He found a smile for his friend. "Thanks."

Not in the least taken in by Steve's false innocence, Mike gave Jeannie the bracelet he'd bought for her. Steve gave her the necklace he'd found and handed Mike a large, squashy package. Mike felt it all over thoroughly as Jeannie and Steve laughed and urged him to "open it already!" Predictably, it was a sweater, but instead of being in the usual muted colours that Mike preferred, this one was emerald green. He looked at it, then looked at Steve. "Thanks," he gruffed.

"Just trying to bring your wardrobe up to date," Steve informed him. "It's the 70s now, you know. Bright colours are all the rage."

"You just want to borrow it, don't you?" Mike replied. He held it out, pretending to measure it against Steve. "Well, it'll probably fit you."

"Oh yeah, that's generous of you," Steve teased.

"What's this, Mike?" Jeannie asked, lifting the last small parcel nestling under the tree.

"Open it," Mike instructed her. "It's for all of us from Nicholas."

They admired the beautiful craft work that had gone into making the intricate wood pieces. Mike explained that all three pieces should fit together and they were soon trying out various ways, sitting close together, laughing often, as they couldn't get them to join.

Suddenly, the pieces jelled and they were left with another beautiful piece of art. It was placed on the sideboard so that everyone coming in could admire it. As Steve and Jeannie started to clear away the dishes from their meal, Mike looked at the puzzle and thought about Nicholas. He shook his head as an idea crossed his mind, but it refused to go away.

It was indeed a miracle that they had found Steve and that despite all the peril he had faced, he had come through virtually unscathed and they were all at home together on this special day. At Mass the night before, Mike had given special thanks for the people who had helped he and Jeannie out along the way and Nicholas and Mikey got an extra special mention. Now, Mike believed the thought that he had just had about Nicholas' identity.

His Christmas wish had come true. Who was the person who granted Christmas wishes? Why, St Nicholas himself, dear old Santa Claus.

Settling back comfortably into his chair as Jeannie and Steve laughed together in the kitchen, Mike saluted the other man. "Godspeed and God bless you," he murmured.

The End


End file.
